In the Hands of Others
by Donatello8696
Summary: My brothers feared me. Darry. Their brother. "Don't hurt me anymore," Pony whimpers. But what did I do? Crossover with Supernatural.
1. Prolouge: What did I do?

_Around 8:45 that morning..._

"Pony, this is the last straw!"

"What am I doin'?!"

"Don't give me that crap! And I got a call from the school saying that you've been in how many fights already?! Jesus, Pone, can't you have common sense at even the best of times? This isn't like you! Now, I want you to sit your butt down, finish your homework, and I'm gonna review it to make sure you did it right. After I get home from work, I wanna have a talk with you."

As I left the room and closed the door, I heard Pony let out an agitated groan and a few choice words. I restrained myself from going back in and went into the living room instead, finding Sodapop sprawled on the floor, watching TV from a weird angle.

"Ain't it easier to watch it from the couch?" I said, watching him. He turned his head awkwardly to smirk at me.

"You gonna help me up?" he said, extending his hand in my direction. I shook my head and grabbed my jacket from the couch. I watched as he untangled himself and plopped onto the couch while I shrugged into my jacket. "What's goin' on with Ponyboy?"

"Slacking work. Fights in school _he _started. Tryin' to get mouthy with me. Don't know what's gotten into the kid," I turned into the kitchen and grabbed my keys from the table. I returned to see Soda concerned.

"Maybe you shouldn't yell at him, Darry. I mean, it doesn't help him when you do..." his voice trailed off into a whisper. I sighed and went over to him.

"I'll try, okay? I'll try to lay off him," I said, ruffling his hair. He swatted my hand away, smiling. I smiled back before I walked out the door.

"I'm comin' home late!" I called over my shoulder. I heard his reply. "Bring your own dinner. _I'm _cooking tonight!" I chuckled.

"Already covered," I muttered to myself. I climbed into the drivers seat and stuck the key in the ignition. But before I could start the engine, I caught movement coming from Ponyboy's room window. His window was low enough for me to see through it, and inside Ponyboy was lying on his bed, mindlessly throwing an old football up in the air and catching it. Letting out a sigh, I started the engine, roaring it to life and backed out of the driveway. I would talk to him today, and I would try my best to follow Soda's advice about not yelling. This was gonna be a long night.

_Around 7:30 that night..._

I finally pulled myself off the couch, joints popping as I did. I yawned and headed into the kitchen. I laughed quietly to myself, wondering what I could possibly make for dinner.

"Hey Pony!" I yelled toward our room.

"What?"

"Wanna give me some ideas on what I should make for dinner today?"

I heard him laugh loudly before he answered: "How about something normal for once?"

"Aw, Pone, you know that isn't gonna be fun to make! It's not even fun to _eat_!" I complained. He laughed again. I shook my head and turned to the refrigerator, looking inside for anything I could use. From behind me I heard the door open and close softly. Confused on why it didn't slam as usual, I got up and turned around. When I saw who it was, I smiled.

"Hey, you're home early," I said, turning back to the refrigerator. He didn't answer, but I heard the distinct sound of pans being pulled out of the drawer.

"Hey can you give me a hand with-" I started to turn around again, but before I could fully rotate myself, I felt the heavy impact of a frying pan smashing against my skull. I collapsed on the ground, too stunned to cry out in pain. I blinked furiously against the tears and dots that had formed in my vision, and stared up at him. He stared back at me, pan in his hand raised high and his eyes wild. Before I could get a question or anything out, he had kicked me in the ribs, hard enough to completely knocked the wind out of me. Something cracked, and I doubled over with an "oomph!", trying to catch my breath.

I couldn't even do that before a flurry of kicks and punches were aimed at me, hitting me where ever he could, pan forgotten. Soon I was yelling in agony, pleading for him to stop. But he continued, my pleas obviously ignored. Past my screams, I heard hurried footsteps running toward the kitchen and my name being called anxiously. They came from the hallway. Ponyboy.

"No! Pone-" I shouted, trying to get him to go back. I felt him grab the front of my shirt, pulling me up to my feet. When I was up, I was down again, mouth bleeding freely from his forceful punch.

I lay there, groaning, trying to find my voice. I clutched at my stomach, tears rapidly falling down my face, not stopping. A shadow loomed overhead, poised for the next attack. Just one move, and he would start again.

"NO! DARRY, STOP!" Ponyboy shouted from the doorway.

Darry turned away from me and faced Pony. No hesitation was shown; he was already going for our baby brother.

"No!"

_At 8:56 that night..._

I parked the truck in front of the house and slowly climbed out. I let out a soft groan as my back began to ache again, and it didn't help matters that I had to work late again tomorrow. Nonetheless, I got up those wretched, steep porch steps and opened the door.

"Pony! Soda! Where are ya-" my breath cut off as I tripped over something long and narrow. Confused, I got up and picked up the lamp.

"What the hell?" I muttered to myself as I turned around a surveyed the scene. Everything was out of place; chairs were knocked over, the couch was up against the wall, broken glass scattered on the floor. I slowly walked across the living room, hearing the crunch of the glass beneath my workboots. Everything was silent, but as I approached the kitchen, I heard ragged breathing.

"Soda?" I whispered, coming into the kitchen. "Pony?"

I looked around the dark kitchen, eyes adjusting. When I could see better, I glanced near the table, and stopped in my tracks.

A figure was sitting upright against one of the chairs that wasn't toppled over, arms above his head, wrists tied together. The rope was tied onto the chairs armrest, looking extremely tight. Another body was lying right in front of him, unconcious by the looks of it. He was curled up against the other, as if he were trying to protect him from whatever was here. With a jolt I realized that it was Soda and Ponyboy.

"Pony!" I exclaimed, immediately dropping down next to him. Ponyboy let out a scared whimper, no relief that I was here. His breathing became quicker, frightened. On closer inspection I saw that there was a gag in his mouth. I reached to take it off, but before I could even touch him, Pony flinched away from my hand.

"Ponyboy? Hey, it's okay. It's me. You're gonna be okay," I whispered, trying again. He stretched his head away from me as far as it would go, whimpering again.

"Pony, it's okay. I'm here," I said, bewildered that my baby brother was suddenly very terrified at the mere sight of me. I reached out to him again, and this time he didn't move away, but pinched his eyes tight when I stroked his forehead, as though waiting for me to hit him. Suddenly, his whimpers to turn into muffled sobs, and I was once again bewildered.

"Pony? What's wrong?" I asked, panic written in my voice. He just continued to cry, tears streaming from his shut eyes. I removed his gag while I asked, "What happened?" I winced at the harshness in my voice.

With the gag removed, Pony let out shaken breaths, eyes open wide and wet. "Please," he said almost inaudibly; I had to lean in so I could hear better. "Please. Don't hurt me anymore," his voice broke on the last word. "I didn't do anything wrong, I swear. Just don't hurt me anymore." His voice shook with every breath he took, utterly horrified.

I was, needless to say, completely speechless. And very, very panic-striken. Whatever attacked my brothers, Ponyboy thought it was _me_. My mouth opened and closed shut, no words coming out. Finally, after a moment, I said, "What are you saying? Tell me what happened!" I nearly shouted, thoughtlessly gripping his arms with unneccesary force. Ponyboy let out a yelp, and I dropped my hands. This is when I got a really good look at him; his hair was matted to his head with blood, fresh and nauseating. Almost every inch of his skin was purple from numerous bruises, and his shirt had been torn, showing a long gash across his chest. He was wearing shorts, so I could see the swollen right knee, and the badly cut up left one. I just looked away, disgusted; who would do such a horrible thing to my brothers? I remembered Pony's hands still being tied up, and I stood up. I walked over to the sink, grabbing a knife.

I went back to him, but when he saw the knife in my hand, he almost went physco. He started breathing even quicker gasps then before and his eyes nearly bulged out as he eyed the knife. I tried to ignore it as I ran the knife blade over the rope on his hands. Finally, the blade snapped up, completely cutting through the rope, and I dropped it to remove the rest of the rope; it fell with a clatter.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him, hold him close to me and tell him everything's going be okay. I wanted to reassure him that nothing was going hurt him while I was around. But he had half-crawled, half-dragged himself away from me, towards Sodapop, who was still lying still and motionless on the floor.

I made to move to Soda and pick him up, wanting to take him to the hospital. But Ponyboy's immediate reaction made me stop where I was. He grabbed Soda around his torso and hugged him close, as though shielding him from my sight.

"Don't you touch him!" he yelled with surprising courage. I stared at my brother in shock; his eyes- which were once before scared and wide- were now narrow and fierce, daring me to come any closer. He continued to glare at me, waiting.

In his arms, Soda let out a soft whimper and stirred uneasily. Ponyboy looked down at him and whispered a few reassuring words, rocking him ever so slightly. I tried to take one step forward, but Ponyboy's head shot up so fast it had me backtracking. He pulled Soda even closer, burying his face in his chest, not once removing his stare from me.

All I could do was stand there, unable to help my unconcious brother, let alone the one that was awake but refused to let me touch any of them. Finally, no other option left, I walked around the table, out of the kitchen and practically sprinted to the phone. I dialed so rapidly I had to keep hanging up and try again, messing up every time. When I finally got my hands to stop shaking and got the number right, I waited impatiently as the line rang.

"Yeah?" came the voice on the other end. I sighed in relief.

"Steve! Good, you're home," I spoke into the phone.

"Darry? Is that you?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, listen, I need you to come over now. It's Soda and Ponyboy, they're hurt, and Soda's unconcious. Pony won't let me touch Soda, and I think he's-"

"Whoa, Darry! Calm down," Steve said. "What's goin' on?"

"Ponyboy and Soda," I said urgently. "They're hurt, and I don't know why. Soda's unconcious. Pony won't let me near him. I need you to find Two-Bit and head on over here."

"Ok, Darry. On my way." I heard a click on the other end, and I knew that Steve had hung up. I slammed the phone down onto the reciever, barely registering the bang it made. I looked back toward my brothers. Ponyboy was still glaring at me, but Soda suddenly moaned and Pony looked back at him.

"Pony?" Soda whispered. "Pony...Pone..."

"I'm here, Soda," Ponyboy soothed, stroking Soda's forehead. "It's okay. Shhhh."

I watched them with a pang of fear. What had happened to them while I was away? And, what had Ponyboy meant by 'Don't hurt me anymore'?

Suddenly, I felt another sharp pang inside me as I realized what was going on. Was Ponyboy implying _I _did this? But how could I? I was at work all day!

"Pony..."

I looked back at Sodapop, watching as he struggled to move around, but Ponyboy's arms made sure he stayed secure. Soda's face pained, and he kept whispering Pony's name. Ponyboy kept reassuring him he was there. I tore my eyes away from them and they strayed to the window. How much longer until Steve and Two-Bit arrived?

"Darry..."

My head snapped back to my brothers. Soda's calling for me had startled me, and probably Ponyboy too. He looked back up at me and stared at me for once without fear or anger. Just pain. I was sure I was staring back at him with the same expression. Ponyboy was so afraid of me, and I was sure that once Sodapop stopped being delirious, he would be, too.

"Darry..."

Ponyboy thinks I did this to them...

"Darry..."

But what did I do?

"Darry..."

* * *

**Okay, so that was the first chapter! I'm sorry to everyone who is a Darry fan, but all will be explained in later chapters. Or if you saw Supernatural already, you know what's happening. Well, I really need your opinions on this chapter. Should I continue? Do I need to work on this? What should I do?**

**Please tell me what you think and your advice if you have any, and be nice when you R&R! This is my first shot at a crossover.**

**BTW, I know the Outsiders and Supernatural are in completely different time periods, but since I'm too lazy to do it, just work it out so that it seems that they are, okay? Cool. =^.^=**


	2. Another Vision

_Eyes. Piercing blue-green orbs. They stared with a cold hatred, burned a hole into my brain--_

"Argh!"

And that was almost exactly what was happening right now.

I held in my head tighter in my hands, feeling as though it were about to explode. Mental knives were stabbing into my brain as a sudden visual picture flashed in my mind. It had lasted only a split-second, but it was enough to almost scare the crap out of me. When the motel room appeared again, it disappeared again as another picture came into mind...

_A boy. No...two. Two teenage boys, and their faces were filled with dread and __terror--_

"Sam?"

Dean's distant shout brought me back into a glimpse of reality. But that disappeared again as another flash popped unexpectedly into my mind--

"Arrgh!"

_The same two boys from before. Only... their faces weren't so cut up and bruised last time--_

"Ah, son of a bitch!" I hissed, literally trying to yank my hair off of my head. My whole attention was focused on the excrutiating pain I felt, and nothing else.

I didn't even feel the rough hands on my shoulders until they were shaking me.

"Sam?! Hey, hey, hey!" Dean said loudly. "What's going on? What's happening?"

He was talking too fast. I couldn't register everything he was throwing at me. It continued like that until a vivid scene flooded my mind, blocking out all feeling, all the pain, and the motel room disappeared again...

_It was one of the boys. He was sitting on his bed reading a book. The title read 'Great Expectations'. Pretty brainy. _

_He didn't seem hurt in any way, not cut up and bloody or nothing. He was just... sitting there._

_Then a shout came from the hall._

_"Hey Pony!" _

_"What?" the boy answered, looking over his shoulder at the door. Pony... wow. Unusual._

_"Wanna give me some ideas on what I should make for dinner today?"_

_Pony laughed. "How about something normal for once?"_

_"Aw, Pone, you know that isn't gonna be fun to make! It's not even fun to _eat_!"_

_Pony laughed again before returning to his book. Suddenly the scene changed and I found myself in a small cramped kitchen, where the second boy was rummaging through the refrigerator. He looked older than Pony. And they looked alike. Maybe they were brothers._

_The boy had lifted his head in surprise as the front door suddenly opened. He took a look at who it was, and his face lighted up. "Hey, you're home early," he said before turning back to look in the refrigerator. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw whoever had entered had pulled a pan out of a cabinet. They boy began to turn around._

_"Hey can you give me a hand with-" He stopped suddenly as the frying pan the visitor had taken out was smashed against his temple. He fell on the ground with a thud and confusingly looked up at his attacker. He opened his mouth to speak, but was kicked in the ribs and doubled over._

_And suddenly he was all over him, kicking and punching and hitting. The younger boy screamed in pain, pleading. But he persisted, ignoring the screaming boy. From the hallway, I could hear Pony running towards the kitchen, calling out anxiously, "Soda? Sodapop!" Jesus, what was with these kids' names?_

_"No!" Sodapop shouted from his position on the floor. "Pone-!"_

_Before Sodapop could finish, he was suddenly up and down from a hard punch to the jaw. Soda then just lay there, groaning in pain. The attacker loomed over him, poised for the next attack. He ignored the tears that ran down Soda's face and waited. _

_"NO! DARRY, STOP!" Pony was standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and frightened. The attacker turned around toward him, and once again I saw the hate-filled blue-green eyes. The intruder was a young man. It shocked me how much he resembled the other two--_

_And Darry was headed toward Pony, ready to attack. _

_"No!" _

_Quite surprisingly, Sodapop stood up, and with quick speed, he somehow managed to beat Darry to Pony, shove him out of the way, and take the hard punch that was meant for Pony to his stomach, hurt and all. Darry glared at the exhausted Sodapop, who was now kneeling on the floor and wheezing. Soda looked up at him with painful, pleading eyes._

_"Darry," he whispered. Pony stood where Soda had pushed him, too stunned to move. Darry made no reaction that he had heard Soda, but reached behind him, pulling out a small pocketknife from his pocket and flicked it out. He raised it above his head slowly._

_"Darry, please," Soda wheezed. Darry's expression didn't change as he brought down the knife._

"Sam?!"

The motel room returned. The scene of the kitchen disappeared from my mind and Dean slowly faded into my vision. His face was panic-striken, a rare expression for my usually calm older brother. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding and panted heavily. Before I could regain my breath, however, two more pictures flew past my eyes. One was of an exterior of an old, rundown house. But all was burry instead of the mailbox, which read **CURTIS. **The next picture was just that. A picture. It showed five people, a man and a woman, and three boys. My wild guess was that the three boys were the sons. So the two adults must've been the parents. But where were they throughout the entire ordeal?

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean's hands were on my arms again, but not shaking furiously like they were last time.

I closed my eyes tightly shut for a second then opened them. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked.

All could I could was look up at him, wondering how a big brother could be so cruel to his younger ones.

* * *

**Yes!!! I got chapter 2 up!  
I thought I wasn't gonna have enough time to actually finish this because I had soccer games and band camp last week, and I had to go the entire time _without a computer._ *hugs computer* I'm so glad to be back!!  
Well, this is chapter 2 so far. Chapter 3 is coming up soon! R&R please!! =^.^=**


	3. What are we waiting for?

"Wait. So, you're telling me that you saw these kids... getting their asses kicked by their older brother?"

I sat with my head buried in my hands on the old mattress. I had just finished telling Dean everything I had seen in my vision, and, unsurprisingly enough, he was taking what I had seen way better than I would have. It was so cruel, what Darry had done to his younger brothers. And the looks on their faces... they were filled with such hurt bewilderment.

"And what were their names? Uh... Darry. And, uh--" he said, snapping his fingers, trying to remember.

"Sodapop and Pony," I finished, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.

"Yeah, Sodapop and Pony, what the hell is up with that?" Dean said. I looked up and shrugged. Dean trudged over to me slowly.

"Now, I never heard of these so-called 'Sodapop and Pony' boys, but I've heard of _someone _named Darry," Dean continued. "And you said their last name was Curtis?"

I nodded. "Yeah. So?"

Dean paused for a moment, then turned around and quickly walked over to his bed, the whole time muttering, "Darry Curtis, Darry Curtis. I heard that name before!" He reached underneath his bed and pulled out a black backpack. He unzipped it and moved the items inside, looking for something.

I guess he found it. He pulled out a book. Dad's journal.

Dean leafed through the pages while I watched confusingly. What was he looking for? Before I could ask, however, he let out a triumphant yell that made me jump a little.

"HA! Here it is!" He said pointing to a line on the page. Without offering me a glance at what the page said, he silently began reading.

"Uh, Dean?" I called, raising a hand. "Clueless, over here."

Dean looked up at me and smiled. "Sorry, Sammy. Forgot about you for a second." I rolled my eyes. Dean walked over to me, journal in hand, and the weight on the bed shifted to my right as he sat next to me. He stuck the book in front of my face, and pointed at an old picture.

"Now, I don't have a Darry, but there _is_," Dean explained, pointing at a man in the picture, "a Darrel. Which is, you know, close enough."

I grabbed the journal and stared at the photo. Dad was sitting next to a very young looking man, about in his mid-twenties. They both looked unaware that they were getting their photo taken. I smiled; Dad was never much for getting his picture taken. I finished with the two men and my eyes strayed to the enscription written next to the photo.

_Darrel Curtis, working a ghost case in Tulsa, Oklahoma._

I turned the pagequite a few times, keeping my forefinger in place of Darrel's photo, and found yet another picture. This time of three boys.

"That's them!" I exclaimed. Dean jumped a little from my sudden outburst. I ignored it and jabbed my finger at the picture. "That's them," I repeated. "Sodapop," my finger brushed against Soda's picture, "Pony," I pointed out the youngest one, "and Darry." I jabbed my finger a little harder than I intended on Darry's picture. Fortunately, Dean took no notice. Instead, he grabbed the book and stared at the picture. After a while, he glanced up at me.

"So this is the abusive brother?" he asked, gesturing at Darry. "A nice guy like that?"

I took the journal from him again and looked a second time. He was right; in the photo, there was no reason to have called Darry an abuser. He was smiling and happy, had his arms wrapped around each of his brothers' shoulders, keeping them close to him. Sure, you could tell Soda and Pony were struggling to get out of their brother's grip, but they were laughing, being playful. They were standing in front of that house I had seen earlier. Or, I think it was, it was too blurry to make out. Underneath the photo of the laughing brothers was a written enscription, just like the last photo. It was faint; time must've faded it.

_Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Darrel Curtis Jr. at their home in Tulsa, Oklahoma._

Closing it, I threw the journal with a flick of my wrist and it spun onto my pillow. "Yeah," I whispered. "A nice guy like that."

Dean didn't say anything for a while. Finally, after a moment's silence, I pushed myself off the bed and grabbed my bag from the bed. Without another word, I started to head for the door.

"Hey, Sam," Dean called sharply. "Where are you goin'?" I turned back to him, raising my arms slightly.

"Isn't it obvious? I wanna go help those kids."

Dean stood up, putting his hands up. "Listen, Sam," he started. I repressed the urge to roll my eyes or throw my head back; here he goes with that whole speech of needing to know if this was supernatural or not. Isn't he the least bit disturbed that a "nice" guy like Darry suddenly turned on his brothers? I'd say this was supernatural, and I bet others would agree.

"I get that you want go help these kids. Believe me, I do too. But, c'mon man. There's no proof that this is anything paranormal. Think about it; for all we know, Darry could have been drunk when he attacked his brothers."

"I don't think he was," I cut him off. "Soda had been looking through the fridge before Darry came home. There was no beer or any types of alcohal in there. And I don't think his boss would allow him to get drunk at work." Dean frowned. I could tell he was trying to find a counterargument that'll keep me from heading out to Tulsa. But before he opened his mouth to speak, I did.

"Dean, these kids need help. Whether or not this is supernatural, I'm going over there. I don't care if you decide not to come, I'll hitchhike. I'll find a way to get there. How do you think I would feel if all of a sudden you started beating me?"

Dean looked outraged, and began to open his mouth to speak--

"Exactly," I said. "I don't want these kids getting hurt. I'm wanna try and help 'em."

There was a silence between us now where all that we could hear was the crunching of the gravel outside as cars maneuvered on the road outside and the occasional chrping of crickets. I decided to try again. "So are you gonna help me or not?"

He was quiet for a moment. Finally, he smiled.

"What are we waiting for? We got some kids to save!"

I smiled back. But then my expression turned into mock confusion. "I didn't know you liked kids."

I laughed as I dodged the pillow that was aimed for me.

* * *

**Yes!!! Chapter three!! =D  
Wow, I got busy. I wonder how I even managed to get this up. Well, it doesn't matter.  
Keep looking for chapter four! It's coming up!**

**Sam:** By the way, who here agrees with me in that one line I said? 'I'd say this was supernatural, and I bet others would agree.' Aren't I right??  
**Me: **Okay, Sammy. That's enough out of you...  
***fangirls start screaming*  
Me:** I said THAT'S ENOUGH!!!  
***instant silence*  
Me:** Thank you. R&R please!! =^.^=


	4. Meeting Steve

We were damn lucky we were so close.

Dean and I had just finished a case over at Wichita, Kansas, and it was only sheer dumb luck that we only needed to drive about two hours this time. I was very anxious to get there.

But so far, then entire way there was filled with an uncomfortable, almost eerie silence. All enthusiasum that Dean must've shown to show that he wanted to help Soda and Ponyboy was gone. He looked at the road ahead and nothing else. There were times where I made pathetic attempts to start a conversation, but every time he would answer the same way: silence and staring at the damn road. Finally, I had enough.

"Dean, what's your problem? Why won't you say anything?"

It seemed as though Dean had been waiting for that question to be asked. He gave a small smile but didn't look at me. "Man, I don't have a problem. Just mulling over the fact that you seem to care about these kids after what their _older_ brother did to 'em."

I stared at him. I didn't like the way he emphasized "older".

"I mean, it's just what you said over there, back at the motel," he continued. "About how it would feel to you if I had beat you. And-ah-ah-ah. I know you didn't mean anything by it." He stuck up his forefinger to stop me when I had opened my mouth to speak. "I'm just saying that I'm... that I'm... proud that you wanna help these kids with their brother." He didn't say anything else.

I was completely taken aback. It was a rare occasion when Dean said he was proud of me, and I always felt awkward, yet grateful, whenever he did. It wasn't really something I was used to hearing; Dad and I had butted heads to much for him to even think about it, and it wasn't really Dean's position, or in his eyes it wasn't, for him to tell me he was proud. I guess he knew that I already known that.

I snapped out of my speechless trance and stuttered out, "Uh, wow, Dean... thanks. Uhh..."

"Oh man, you're not gonna hug me or anything, are you?" Dean groaned. I chuckled.

"Nah."

"Okay. So we're cool?" he said, trying to clear it up. I looked at him, confused.

"When weren't we?"

Dean shrugged and reached over to the radio, turning it on full blast. Neither of us said anything else, and we just listened to Blue Oyster Cult's "I'm Burnin' For You" the rest of the trip.

_Burn out the day, burn out the night._

_I can't see no reason to put up a fight._

_I'm livin' for givin' the Devil his due._

_And I'm burnin', I'm burnin, I'm burnin' for you._

_I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you_

* * *

We got to Tulsa a couple hours later. It wasn't really that hard to find the Curtis's house; the entire town of Tulsa seemed to be split into two nieghborhoods. One side had nice, big houses only rich people could afford. The other side had houses that made our motel rooms look like palaces. Honestly, it was a real mess.

"Okay, so we're trying to find to a house that has a porch, white-gray exterior, and a mailbox that says CURTIS," Sam said, looking around at all the old houses we were passing by. We continued to look for another moment, then stopped at the nearest gas station, the DX. We had just parked next to one of the pumps when a kid that looked in his late teens came out of the garage, wiping his hands clean with an already dirty rag. His face was smeared with oil and dirt, as were his clothes. He stopped right next to our car and peeked in through the driver's window.

"Welcome to the DX," he said. His voice was real bitter and solemn. "Newcomers?"

Apparently he noticed the Kansas lisense plate.

"Yeah, actually you might be able to help us out a bit," I said.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"We're looking for the Curtis house."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why? You the fuzz?" _God, was this kid going to help us or not?_

Sam answered his question by pulling out one of the fake IDs from his pocket. "Detective Foreman," he introduced. Then he nodded toward me. "Detective Thomas. Listen, uh..." he stopped and glanced at the kid's nametag, "Steve. We really need your help with finding those kids."

"And why would I even bother telling you anything?" Steve snapped, glaring at both of us, eyes throwing darts.

"Because we think that robbery was somethin' more than a robbery," I cut in almost immediately after Steve stopped talking. Steve just continued to glare at me.

After a moment, he said, "Listen, that _robbery _was just that. A robbery. And they've dealt with a lot this past couple months, what with their parents' death and I still don't see why I need to have them burdened with more cops, seeing that Darry already has the social workers on his case, and they're doing the best they can so they won't find out about this."

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Their parents died?"

Steve nodded, staring at us like we were morons. "Car wreck killed 'em 'bout four months ago."

Sam sighed deeply, and I was on the verge of doing the same. No _wonder _Sam said Darry and his brothers were alone; they had no parents to begin with.

"Well, listen. We might even be able to help Darry with his custody battle he has goin' on," I said, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel and looking back up at Steve. "We don't mean any harm to 'em. We just wanna help, is all. Now, you mind givin' us the address?"

Steve hesitated, and finally agreed. "You rat them out to the social workers, I swear I'll have guys after you. The Curtises are good friends of mine."

"We won't," Sam promised.

Five minutes later, we had directions to the house and a full gas tank. Before we pulled out of the gas station, Steve spoke, "By the way, nice car."

Though his face was masked into a cool exterior that made him look like he could care less, his eyes screamed that he was in awe as he stared, almost wide-eyed, at the Impala. I chuckled softly. People do love my car.

"Thanks," I replied, and drove out of the DX, and began making our way into the Curtis home.

* * *

**YES! Chapter four is now up!**

**Keep on the lookout for the next chapter, and also for the next chapter for A New Year, A New Time. I'm trying my best on keeping up with my stories, but guess what? Swimming season has now started, and my first practice is on Monday, and I heard from one of my best friends, Jose, that it's every day! But I'm sure that's not true. I won't let you guys down, and I'll continue the stories! Just be patient please!**

**Also, check my stories for a new fanfic I'm starting. The description for it will be on the next chapter's A/N. **

**One last thing: how is my writing? Improved? Suckish? Should I stop writing or not? Please R&R with your answers if you can!**


	5. Darry's Story

**Well, here's chapter five! Please review and tell me how I'm doing and some ideas if you have any! **

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I have no claim over The Outsiders or Supernatural. I just toy with them (not in **_**that **_**way!).**

We found it.

Driving down the road we were directed to go, Sam and I stared the gray houses on either side of us. I narrowed my eyes at how poor they looked.

"Damn, would you just look at this dump?" I said, passing by more houses. These looked worse than the last. "This makes the frggin' junkyard we just passed look like paradise!"

"Uh, Dean," Sam said. "That 'junkyard' is someone's home, too."

I turned to him and stared exasperately. "Thank you, Sam. For your unneeded observation."

We drove in silence after that. Finally, at the end of the street, Sam spoke.

"There it is! That's the place."

I examined the house. Huh. Better than the rest, I'll give it that. I parked at the curb, grabbed my fake ID, and got out, Sam following suit.

The Curtis home was old, like the rest, but looked decent. There was a huge porch in the front of the house, a lone porch swing swaying slightly in the wind. The screen door flew slightly open and rattled closed. I don't know why, but this place, however decent, gave me an uneasy feeling. It reminded me of one of those houses in horror movies that even though it looked welcoming, there was some dark secret within it. There was a strange vibe coming from it, and I was seriously about to turn around and drive the hell out of there. But I looked over at Sam, and he looked back at me, gesturing toward the house, eyebrows raised. So I shrugged the feeling away and went up the walkway.

Once we got to the door and looked back at Sam.

"You sure this is the right place?" I said, not really intimidated by the house, but hoping all the same that Sam had gotten the address wrong.

He rolled his eyes. "Just... knock."

I sighed in annoyance, and rapped my fist three times on the shaky door. Almost immediately there was a man in front of us, staring bewildered through the wire. _This must be Darry._

"May I help you?" he asked politely, but confused.

"Yes," Sam responded sharply. I glanced at him; his jaw was set and his eyes were almost glaring, piercing a hole into Darry's. I did a mental eye roll; I could see he was still pissed at the younger man.

"Are you Darrel Curtis?" I asked for Sam. Darry nodded. I took out my fake ID and showed it to him, saying, "Well, we're with the police, and we'd like to talk to you about what happened here."

Darry skillfully cocked an eyebrow. "The police were already here yesterday night."

Ignoring that comment, I continued, "We heard there was a robbery here yesterday, is that correct?"

He nodded. "Yes, there was." His voice was cold, but there was no anger traced into it, and his face held no emotion. This guy was really good at hiding his true feelings.

"And your brothers were victims?" Sam asked.

If Darry didn't show any expression earlier, he was definitely showing it now; his eyes clouded with pain, and his face held the anger supposed to have been directed at the two of us. But not really at _us_.

Confusing, I know.

"Yeah," he answered quietly, and for the first time since we're been here, I noticed no one else was inside the house with him. He was here alone. This confused me, slightly. Why was here here, instead of visitng the hospital, if that's where his brothers were? Instead of asking this, however, Dean replied to the younger man by asking, "Mr. Curtis, you mind if we step in?"

Darry looked taken aback, then amused as he realized that he had not yet invited us inside. "Yeah, sure. Come on in," he said, opening the door wider for us to step through. I caught it before he let it go and stepped inside, Sam short after. The house inside was better than out. Or, at least, the living room was. The couches, chairs and coffee table had been pushed up against the wall, elaving a huge gap in the middle of the room. I could tell Darry had been trying to clean up a little; there were swirls of dust you could barely see all around the floor where he had swept over with a broom. From the living room, I could see the kitchen was a complete mess. The chair were knocked over, table included, there were shards of clear glass on the floor, and there was a small switchbalde, flicked open, lying in the entrance. I walked over and picked it up. There was a little rusty color on the silver blade, completely dried up.

I handed it over to Darry. "Here," I said, placing it in his hand. "You don't wanna leave that out."

* * *

As Dean handed the knife over to Darry, a sudden pang hit my head. It took a lot for me just to resist grunting in pain or making a noise. A familiar vision passed through my mind again.

_Darry reaching behind him, taking out that same knife while Soda gasped his words out. Darry, his face holding no acknowledge that he had heard his brother. Darry bringing down the knife--_

Darry stared at the dried blood on the switchblade with disgust and threw it onto one of the chairs nearest him. Then he turned to us. "Well, have a seat," he said, gesturing with a wave of his hand towards the couch. We sat down and surprisingly it was very comfortable.

"So, Mr. Curtis, why don't you tell us what happened?" Dean asked. Darry sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Honestly, I don't have a clue," he answered, shrugging. "I left them here so I could go to work. I thought they'd be fine alone."

Darry bit the inside of his bottom lip. I could tell he was starting to hate himself for making that choice. Darry continued, "I came home at around nine, and the house was a wreck. Found them tied up in the kitchen. That's all I know." He leaned back in his chair, waiting.

"Mr. Curtis, is ther by any chance anyone who would want to hurt any of your brothers? Any enemies?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, every day," Darry said. I was surprised. That was unexpected. "We live in a town that's split into two, one side for Socs, one for Greasers. We're considered Greasers. The Socs are always trying to jump my brothers where ever they go. It's their idea of a good time," he finished hostily. Then his eyes widened in realization. "You don't think a group of Socs came here and attacked them, do ya?"

"Well, is there any particular, uh, Soc that would want to hurt your brothers bad enough to almost kill them?" I asked. Darry flinched slightly at the word 'kill'.

"There shouldn't be. My brothers don't cause trouble. And I don't think the Socs would sink that low just to hurt a Greaser," he said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"And you have no idea who could've done this?" Dean asked.

There was an obvious hesitation before Darry replied, somewhat reluctantly, "No. I don't."

It was quiet for a few seconds before Dean spoke again. "Mr. Curtis, are you keeping information from us? 'Cause you should know it is a crime to withhold information from the police." (1)

Darry bit his lip again and looked down at his hands. Dean looked at me and I shrugged. Something was up, so we waited patiently for Darry to answer.

After a moment, he finally did. He looked up and quietly asked, "Off the record?"

"Yeah, off the record."

Darry took a deep breath, and I caught a barely noticable quiver in it. "Did you even stop to notice that I was here alone? That I wasn't with me brothers, at the hospital, where I should be?"

I was a little taken aback. Sure, I had seen that Darry was here alone, but never quite stopped to wonder why he wasn't at the hospital. Beside me, Dean said, "Why is that?"

Darry sighed and said, "'Cause Ponyboy doesn't want me there."

I stared at him. I knew exactly why Ponyboy didn't want him there, after he experienced a horrifying ordeal with his brother that might've not been him at all. Even I was starting to believe that. But, of course, Darry didn't know I knew so I asked, hinting confusion in my voice, "Why? What happened?"

He let out a dry chuckle. "You guys are gonna think this is crazy."

"Oh, believe me, man. We know crazy," Dean said, smiling a bit. Darry nodded slightly.

"Okay, well that night, after I found my brothers in the kitchen, something... was wrong with Ponyboy. He wouldn't let me touch him. It took a while for me to get his gags and stuff off and when I did, he moved away from me to Soda, and he wouldn't let me take Soda to the hospital. He was terrifed of me," he said, hurt evident in his eyes. "I had to call Steve to come and-"

"Steve? From the DX?" Dean said. Darry nodded.

"Yeah. He grabbed Soda while Johnny and Two-Bit - more of our good friends-" he added to our confused expressions, "took Ponyboy to the hospital. I tried to go with, but the entire time Pony was practically begging Two-Bit to make me go home. I dunno who was more appalled - me or Two-Bit. So, since it was clear Pony didn't want me there, I came back here and tried to clean up. That's it."

Dean and I were staring at Darry was meeting our eyes with an even gaze. Dean fianlly said, "Do you know which hospital they were taken too?"

Five minutes later, we had an address to the hospital and left Darry, bidding him good luck. Darry responded with a stiff nod and went back inside. We both headed toward the Impala, solemn.

"Poor guy," Dean said, getting inside. "It's gotta be rough, having to take all that in."

"Yeah," I agreed, climbing in as well. Dean glanced at me.

"So what, now you're siding with him?"

I shrugged. "I dunno Dean. I just don't think it's him anymore. I mean, it makes sense, with the vision and all, but it's something else."

Dean nodded in understanding. "Alright. Well, lets go see these kids. Maybe they know who attacked them."

Pulling away from the curb, we headed toward the hospital.

* * *

**(1) **I think I saw this on a Supernatural episode... can't remember which. Anyone know?

**Well, this is the fifth chappy!! Yeah, I just wanted to show the result of the interview between the Winchesters and Darry. They're meeting POnyboy in the next, so please keep looking for an update!**

**Plus, just out of curiousity, anyone have any ideas that I could include in this story? Please send them to me if you can! R&R please!!**


	6. Now and Later

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Happy, people that told me to put this on my stories even though they know that I don't own anything? No, didn't think so.**

After the fuzz had gone, I turned back to look around. The house was still a mess, so I set to work, desperate for something, anything, to get my mind off that night's events. I cleaned the living room and kitchen till they were past clean. Finally, both rooms were spotless and it was pointless to do anymore. I headed into the kitchen and grabbed a huge wad of bills. I didn't want to stay in the kitchen any longer than I had to. I don't think I could stand to see the blood, my _brothers' _blood, everywhere. That part I just couldn't seem to clean properly.

I sat down in an armchair (now in its proper place, as was everything else), and lay the bills in my lap, staring at them. I couldn't bring myself to pay them just yet. I was exhausted. With a small jolt, I realized that I hadn't gotten any sleep ever since that night I came home to my beaten brothers. As I thought this, my eyelids suddenly seemed heavier and I found myself slowly relaxing. I struggled to keep them open; sleeping meant letting anything bad that I didn't want in my mind to enter. So I tried every method of staying up that I could think of. I solved math problems in my head; I tried to remember every kid I had in elementary school; I sang the lyrics to every song I could remember.

Eventually, I must had fallen asleep, because soon I found myself in a dream...

_Steve arrived in record time, Two-Bit and Johnny towing behind him. Two-Bit briefly explained that he had found Johnny in the lot and, once he explained the situation, the young boy wanted to come to help. Or did he actually say that? Can't remember..._

_Steve ran into the kitchen and crouched beside Ponyboy, quietly persuading him to let him take Soda. It took a while's persuasion, but Pony eventually placed Soda into Steve's arms, gently. Steve put one arm under Soda's knees and another around his back and stood up, carefully cradling him. Two-Bit and Johnny, who had arrived and stood at either Ponyboy's sides, each grabbed one of Ponyboy's arms and tried to help him up. _

_Ponyboy yanked his arms away. No one missed his wince. "It's just my knee, I'm fine!" he said in that same strong and foreful voice he used with me earlier. However, when Ponyboy managed to stand, he took one step with his injured leg and his knee didn't support his weight; he collapsed with a cry, grabbing desperately onto Two-Bit's shoulder for support. Two-Bit grabbed his arm as carefully as he could and slung it over his shoulder, standing Ponyboy up. Johnny did the same with his other arm and they lead Ponyboy slowly outside. Steve followed, seemingly struggling under Soda's weight but managing just fine. I followed them out to Steve's car and was about to follow them in when Ponyboy suddenly spoke._

_"No! Two-Bit, don't let him come. Don't let him come!" Ponyboy was holding onto Johnny in fear, not glancing in my direction. Two-Bit looked puzzled. _

_"Don't let who come, Pone?" _

_Ponyboy didn't answer, but continued to cling to Johnny. Johnny held him protectively, but looked confused. The realization dawned on him._

_"Darry?"_

_At this, Pony started trembling. That was enough for Johnny, and he looked up at me anxiously. Two-Bit was wide-eyed._

_"Guys, we gotta get 'em to the hospital right now." Steve's urgent voice came from the front, where he had Soda lying on his side, his head in his lap. I didn't answer; I was staring at Ponyboy. He was still refusing to look at me, shaking fiercely. _

_"Don't let 'im," he whispered shakily._

_He didn't want me to come. _

_The thought had tears springing to my eyes, but I fought them back, not about to cry in front of the gang. I risked placing a hand on Pony's shoulder gently, and he jolted in fright, moving closer into Johnny's embrace. I took a deep breath and stood. Leaning in the driver's side, I said to Steve, "Y'all go ahead and get 'em to the hospital."_

_Steve looked at me, utterly confused. "You ain't comin'?"_

_I shook my head. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit. Just get 'em there _now_."_

_Steve paused, but when he saw that I wasn't getting in, he started the engine and, with another anxious glance at me, took off. I watched the car go down the street, letting a few tears escape as they turned the corner._

I woke up with a start, cold sweat on my forehead and panting. I got another surprise when I saw how dark the sky was outside. How long was I out?

Running a hand across my face, I became aware of the tracks of tears spilling from my eyes. I wiped them away quickly. Crying wasn't gonna solve anything.

I knew I couldn't bring myself to go back to sleep, so I stood up, stretching out my stiff back and hearing a few bones crack. Silently, I wished Soda was back to give me a good massage. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed onto both sides of the sink, my head down. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down some. Taking a deep breath, I turned the faucet on and felt the cold water drizzle on my fingers. When I thought it was cold enough, I cupped my hands under the running water and splashing it on my face, feeling the shocking impact it left. Running my still wet hand through my hair, I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror.

What I saw was a tired old man, bags under his eyes and a defeated look in his features. I blinked hard in disbelief. My regular face was staring back at me, looking a little panic-striken. We both sighed in relief.

"Anybody home?" Two-Bit was here.

I forced my voice to sound as controlled as possible when I replied, :"Yeah, in here."

I heard the front door slam and heavy footsteps approaching. I was getting up from leaning on the sink when Two-Bit appeared at the doorway.

"Hey," he said, knitting his eyebrows together. "You okay?"

I sighed, running a hand across my face again. "Yeah, I'm fine." I nudged past him and walked into the kitchen. He followed me slowly, leaving some space between himself and me. I took some leftovers from the day before out of the icebox placed it on the stove to warm it up. I turned to Two-Bit. He was leaning in the doorway, watching me solemnly. I honestly haven't seen Two-Bit look so serious.

"Ya hungry?" I asked, turning back to the stove.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. I nodded and finished cooking the meal, set in on a plate and gave it to Two-Bit. He took it, cocking an eyebrow in confusion.

"You're not eatin'."

It wasn't a question. More of a statement, or accusation. I shrugged and said, "I'm not really hungry."

Two-Bit stared at me for a couple of seconds before turning to the food before him. A minute later, he was finished and had put his plate in the sink. It was silent for an uncomfortable minute. Then, he turned to me again, looking dead serious, no trace of humor in his features.

"Darry, ya can't avoid 'em forever," he said. I looked at him, agitated. Would he ever drop it?

"Watch me."

Without another word, I set off for the living room, Two-Bit close behind. I could tell he was fuming, and he snapped, "Darry, these are your brothers we're talkin' about! Why won't you go and see 'em?!"

"They don't want me there," I said simply. He raised his eyebrows then narrowed them furiously.

"What the fuck do you mean 'they don't want you there'? Of course they want you there! You're their brother!" he shouted.

"Did you even _see_ him that night, Two-Bit?!" I shouted. He froze. I knew he was remembering Ponyboy and the way he was begging everyone to make me stay home. It scared the hell out of everyone, especially me.

"Don't you get it?! Ponyboy _wanted_ me to stay home! He doesn't want me anywhere near him! I'm just doing what he wants me to do," I continued, barely managing to speak past the hard lump in my throat, "and that's to stay away from him... and I dunno why." I sat down on nearest couch. I wasn't crying, but I was damn close to it.

Two-Bit was staring at me, eyes slightly wide. I felt his eyes on me as I looked down at my hands resting on my knees.

It was true. I just couldn't understand why my brother was scared. Everything he said didn't make any sense. He practically said right in my face that I was the one that did it. But I couldn't have! So why did Pony think it was me? Why me? Who beat my brothers that night?

This was all to overwhelming. I closed my eyes and brought my fingers to my temples and rubbed them gently, trying to make those questions go away. The weight of the couch shifted downward next to me and I was slightly startled. I had almost forgotten Two-Bit was there. He was looking at me sympethetically.

"So don't do what he wants," he said. I cocked an eyebrow, stealing his trick.

"What do you mean?"

"You wanna know how they're doing right? You wanna be there for 'em?" I nodded. "So go be there for them."

I looked back down again. "I dunno, Two-Bit - "

"C'mon Darry. You have no reason for Ponyboy to not want you there as far as you know, right?" he asked.

"Well, no - "

"So go," he said. I sighed. "You know you wanna."

I chuckled softly. Something I hadn't done since this whole mess started. I sighed again. "Alright."

Two-Bit grinned. "Great." He clapped a hand onto my knee and stood up. "Let's go."

I stood, staring questioningly at him. And a bit nervously. "_Now_?"

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Yes, _now_. There isn't any other time better than _now_." He raised his eyebrows. "So you comin' or not?"

It took a moment's hesitation, but I finally gave a small smile and nodded. Then I looked at him, skeptic.

"How did you become so wise all of a sudden?"

He shrugged and grinned. "I try," he said. I chuckled again, and we both headed out toward the truck.

* * *

"Ponyboy Curtis?"

The young boy turned his head to the doorway, startled. From here Sam could see he was supporting a black eye, mussed up hair wild and untended to, his chest and left leg wrapped up in thick gauze. His right knee was covered by a bag of ice. He looked terrible.

"Yeah?" Ponyboy's voice was weary and tired. Sam and Dean stepped forward.

"I'm Detective Thomas," Sam introduced, briefly showing Pony his fake badge. He nodded toward Dean. "This is Detective Foreman." Dean also held up his ID. "We'd like to ask you some questions about yesterday."

Ponyboy looked away. "I already talked to the cops last night."

"Well, we're just following up," Sam said, pausing for just a brief moment. Dean cleared his throat.

"So... Ponyboy. What can you tell us about yesterday?"

"What's there to tell?" Ponyboy said sharply, looking up at the two brothers. "Some guy came into my house, attacked me and my brother, and all I know now is that he is somewhere in this hospital, maybe dying, and my other brother couldn't give a shit about it." Ponyboy finished in a whisper, looking down at his hands. Dean and Sam were quiet for a moment.

"We spoke to your older brother earlier today," Sam said, and Ponyboy looked up again. "He's really worried about you and Sodapop."

"Yeah?" Ponyboy said, skeptic. He scoffed. "Sure don't show it."

Something else was still bothering Dean. "You sure it was a robbery?"

Ponyboy looked up, furrowing his eyebrows. "Yeah."

"You sure? I mean, from the looks of the place, didn't look like anything was taken."

"Nothing was taken," Ponyboy said. "Whoever it was came in and attacked my brother first, then when I came to see what was going on, he started beating me. That's it." He looked back down at his hands when he said this, fidgeting with his bedsheets. Sam looked at Dean. Dean shrugging, eyebrows raised, confused.

"You didn't recognize him? Maybe it was someone who wanted to hurt you guys? Someone you knew?" Sam said.

Ponyboy shook his head, still avoiding eye contact.

"I didn't know him."

Sam inwardly sighed. "Alright. Well, thanks for the help, Pony." He then took out a notepad and pen from his front pocket and began to write something down. "If you, uh... ever need anything or have more information for us - " he ripped out the paper and handed it to Ponyboy " - don't hesitate to call us."

Ponyboy took the small piece of paper containing Sam's cell number and nodded. "Thanks."

Sam nodded. "Anytime." They stepped out of the hospital room.

"Did you see that?" Dean said as they began walking away, gesturing toward Ponyboy's room.

"Yeah," Sam said. "He knew it was Darry. Why not tell?"

"I dunno. What I don't get is why he's protecting him. I mean, sure he was all pissed probably 'cause Darry wasn't here, but why not rat him out."

"Probably because of custody," Sam said as they turned a corner. "Think about it. Their parents are dead, so Darry has custody on them right? He's the only family that those kids have. If they get taken away, then what?"

"Yeah, that could probably be it," Dean agreed. "C'mon. We obviously can't go see Sodapop since he's unconcious, so let's go see if we can find a hotel around here."

They went down the elevator, down to the first floor. As they passed the front desk, a cute blonde nurse caught Dean's eye and smiled. They walked out of the hospital a few minutes later, Dean carrying a small strip of paper. Sam was staring at him in disbelief.

"Dude, _seriously_?"

Dean laughed, pocketing the phone number. "Always the jealous one," he said as they reached the Impala, opening the door and getting in.

They didn't notice Darry, accompanied by Two-Bit, entering the hospital at that moment.

***lets out a breath of frustration, rubs temples* God, I dunno how this took me that long to update. **

**Ah well. Anyway, here's the sixth chapter. Finally, right? Well, I wanted to say that if you have any ideas, PLEASE send them to me! It would be really good to hear some new ideas.**

**A big thanks to all my faithful reviewers! Keep the support coming, I really need it! Happy New Year!!! **


	7. Awakening

**It's about time, huh? I'm real sorry about the delay in the updates. My dad decided to take us to a water resort, and we left on the day this was supposed to be updated. Stupidly, I didn't know we had Wi-Fi over there until the last day. T.T So here it is! Thanks so much to all readers out there who were so patient during this long wait! Here's chapter 6.**

* * *

I felt like I was trapped in darkness. My eyes were open, and I was fine. But I couldn't see anything. Just black. I couldn't speak. I couldn't see. I couldn't feel. Just... nothing. This certainly wasn't like any dream I ever dreamt before. It was almost like a premonition of what death might feel like.

Is this what death was like? Hearing nothing, seeing nothing, and feeling nothing? Just being nothing, but a still corpse in a hospital bed, or lying in a ditch or wreck somewhere?

It felt kind of nice.

But right then I felt something nudging me in my mind, and I knew immediately I wasn't dead.

But then... what was I?

**XXX**

I was stuck in that state for a while, enough to feel like an eternity in that dark, distant part of my brain before I felt something pulling me. Not physically, but mentally. Something was yanking my unconscious state awake, and I obeyed.

I opened my eyes for real.

* * *

I groaned, blinking my eyes open. I had to blink a couple of times to moisten my dry eyes before I tried to sit up in the hospital bed with a tired sigh. I cursed under my breath, rubbing my heavy eyes.

"Hey, watch your mouth, bud."

I whipped my head up, fighting away the sudden dizziness that hit me behind my eyes. I felt them grow wider and the monitor next to me started to beep rapidly. Darry was in the chair right beside my bed.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, Ponyboy!" Darry said, looking frightened. He stood up, and I reacted, backing away as quickly and as far as I could. I was stopped abruptly by the wall behind me, and a thing called an IV. I snapped my head to glance at it fiercely, then back to Darry. In that short time I took from looking at the IV, he had walked over to my bedside, hands hovering over as if unsure what he should do.

He lowered them slightly.

"Don't touch me!" I snapped, flinching violently even though he hadn't touched me. Darry backed off, bewildered.

"Pony, I - ." The rest of his sentence was lost as a nurse came hurrying into the room, looking around.

"Is everything alright?" she said, walking over to the bedside over to the monitor.

"Yes, ma'am, my brother just woke up," Darry said, keeping his gaze on me. I stared for a moment.

"Yes, these things can happen," she said, punching in something in one of the monitors. Keeping my eyes on Darry, I tried my best to calm down, taking silent, deep breaths. In another moment, my heart rate went back into a steady slow beat. I turned away from Darry and toward the nurse.

"You're sure you're alright?" she asked. I nodded dumbly, now choosing to avert my eyes. "Alright, then. If you need anything, make sure to call in one of us, okay?" She left.

Darry and I lapsed into an uncomfortable, tense silence. He just stood there, his eyes boring into me. I didn't look up at him, but instead played with the IV that was attached to me. I didn't realize that he had walked even closer to my side until he spoke.

"Why are you so afraid me of me, Pone?"

I jumped violently, startled out of my wits. The monitor acted up again, and I tried doing the same method I used to slow down the heart rate. The beeping slowed down some, but it was still sounding rapidly. After I found that I couldn't calm down anymore, I glared up at Darry.

"Why are you playing innocent?" I snapped. He looked shocked. I didn't understand why. He knew what he did, and yet he was standing here with the balls to ask why I was afraid. I could feel my anger rising as he opened his mouth for another lame excuse, but was unable to get the words out before the door opened again, Two-Bit entering.

"Darry," he said urgently, walking forward. "I just talked to one of the nurses about Soda."

"And?" I said before Darry could. Two-Bit looked at me.

"He's awake."

* * *

**Argh! I **_**despise **_**having writer's block. It gives me a headache.**

**Well, it seems that Ponyboy's okay! =D And now that Soda's awake, everything should go back to normal right? I wouldn't really count on it. Next chapter should have the Winchester boys hearing about Soda's awakening and coming to the hospital to talk to Sodapop. Really sorry that this chapter seemed to be so short, but I hope that the next few chapters should make up for the long wait! Thanks for all the support guys!**

**Review!**


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